


BAD BURNS

by goodnight



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Dark Comedy, Developing Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Fluff, Hero Worship, Hurt/Comfort, Inheritance, M/M, Manipulation, Mutual Attraction, Oblivious, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Movie, Reversible Couple, Sexual Tension, Size Kink, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Switching, past Kray/Galo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-11-08 20:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnight/pseuds/goodnight
Summary: Lio rides off to claim his share of the Fotia family fortune.Galo tagged along for moral support and absolutely did NOT intend to become a sugar baby. Again. Whoops. He should have learned his lesson with Kray Foresight, but maybe since it’s Lio, things will be different this time around.





	1. so spend some time with me // I really like your company

**Author's Note:**

> I was saying on twitter how I wanted to read sugar-daddy!LioGalo, but then I saw some KrayGalo fanart, so… here we are. Galo gets the best (or worst) of both worlds. There's a size kink either way, lol.
> 
> This follows canon based on what I’ve read from translations on twitter, but I’ve taken some liberties regarding backstories for this fic. I wrote this with fluff and fun in mind, but it’s going to get a little dark and introspective from time to time. As you can expect, the main ship is lighter with LioGalo, with some darker content in the past!KrayGalo ship. If that’s cool with you, then proceed!

Lio fit in.

Or rather, Burning Rescue fit around Lio like a glove. A fine black leather glove.

It had been Galo who vouched for him during the criminal hearings. He’d taken a good hard look inside Lio while they were Lio de Galon and then Galo de Lion, and he’d found a burning soul to match his burning spirit. From the defense’s table, Lio reddened at the praise and hid his face, presumably in gratitude. Everyone else grinned at Galo like he’d said something endearingly dumb on the witness stand.

Hell, maybe he had, but Galo _meant_ it.

He’d meant it then on the grounded spaceship, orange sunrise spilling over the horizon, and he’d meant it in court. He was certain his conviction would convince the jury because _yes_, all right, terrorism and arson were _bad_, but Lio helped Galo save the world, which was _very_ _good_. Galo thought those things should've canceled each other out, especially since Lio’s revolution had ended with the departure of the Promare. No more Burnish outbursts = no problem. Right?

On the final day of proceedings, a ceiling collapsed on Galo, so he missed the verdict. Typical.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get hurt on the job, but it was certainly one of his graver accidents. He’d woken up with a blood bag hooked to his scarred arm, three cracked ribs, and a few more burns across his body. Sitting next to him, scrolling down the Burning Rescue Trigger feed, was Lio Fotia. He smelled like mint that day and somehow took up more space on the bed than Galo.

“Galo Thymos,” he’d said, without a glance away from his phone, “I heard you got yourself buried under burning rubble.”

“How come you said it like it was _my_ fault?” Galo complained, his voice cracking.

Lio just smiled and handed him a juice box.

From what Galo understood of the trial, he’d gotten his point across to the jury because things seemed to pan out favorably for Lio and his gang after all. He was glad to see Lio look normal: not resentful, not playing life-or-death chess with the government, and not running for his life. Lio was finally adjusting.

Galo’s fire rescue family had their doubts for a while, and it'd been a tense first week with Lio Fotia, former leader of the Mad Burnish, camped out in front of their TV in Galo’s baggy clothes, hogging their spare blankets and a box of Luluco cereal; his two henchmen had flanked him and glared knives at anyone who dared to approach, which meant Galo took the brunt of their ire.

And okay, that was fair because Lio had spent a decent portion of his life protecting fugitive Burnish while being hunted down like vermin. It didn’t help that police cars surrounded the fire station, in case Lio proved himself a flight risk.

(He hadn't, of course. He walked as far as the bathroom and returned before the end of every commercial break. Galo didn’t get depression, but he could recognize it. Lio was sinking, unable to figure out what to do after everything he dedicated his life to went up in smoke—in the best possible way of course, but _still_. And yes, Galo had planned to do something about it, but then… Well, he’d gotten himself hurt. What could he say? Occupational hazards.)

But Lio’s post-Promare existential crisis must have ended while Galo was unconscious because he’d traded in Galo’s ragged track suit for his usual dark little number with its black bondage belts and the cream-colored cravat, and he’d _smiled_ at Galo, walked to the door, and called the rest of the rescue squad back in. Then, he left.

Galo didn’t see much of him, Meis, or Gueira for a week.

On the day he was finally discharged from the hospital, Galo saw Lio Fotia on TV dazzling a talk show host as they discussed goals, the future, and other bright and sparkly things. Soon afterward, Lio launched a successful class-action lawsuit against the Foresight Foundation. He won enough to provide for the Burnish under his protection for the rest of their lives. And he made sure Foresight was found liable for damages, especially since it could aid the prosecution in _The People vs. Kray Foresight_, which was expected to reach trial by the end of next year. Lio had sworn to destroy the man, and if he couldn’t do it physically, he’d have to try legally.

That tiny, magnificent bastard. Galo could understand at last how he kept the authorities running in circles for what everyone insisted was thirty years, even though Lio couldn’t have been any older than him.

And then, Lio had come home.

That night, Lio walked in, took the last slice of pizza from the box—margherita, cold—and he passed out mid-sentence on the couch with the crust halfway to his mouth. Exhausted.

He was human now. No, _mortal_—Burnish had always been human.

Lio Fotia was mortal now, and he would tire and age like the rest of them.

Something about that made Galo a little sad but also a little glad. The feeling grew like a gas burner flame when Lio started the next day by donning Lucia’s standard issue uniform—a black T-shirt and orange regulation firefighter slacks, which she had long discarded in favor of her current, comfier, _trendier_ outfit. Lio announced he would be repenting for his crimes of arson by becoming a firefighter. He hoped to work together with Burning Rescue and yadda yadda yadda…

Galo was paying attention. Of course, he was. And he wasn’t stingy with his congratulations either. This was an important, momentous event for both Lio and their department, but the shirt was small on Lio and revealed his flat tummy. Still, he made it work. He’d made Galo’s tracksuit work, hadn’t he?

In the end, their chief had raised an eyebrow but agreed with the poetic justice of it. He sent Lio, Gueira, and Meis on a crash-course fireman training program to get their certification, and the three of them had returned a few months later, slightly singed but no worse for wear.

“Is it hard putting out fires now?” Galo had asked, and it sounded stupid after it left his mouth, but Lio seemed to understand the underlying concern.

“No,” he said. His voice was soft and quiet. He pulled on those black half-gloves that accentuated his slender wrists and the smooth back of his hand, no longer hidden beneath lace ruffles. “The fires don’t speak to me anymore. They’re not alive. They just… _are_.”

And something about that sounded a little sad and maybe a little glad because Lio’s heart was with the Burnish, his people, and they would no longer have to suffer, no longer compelled by voices from another planet.

(Or whatever the Promare had been. It was done, the world was saved, and Galo was content to ignore the science behind his heroics.)

Lio’s answer was good enough for Galo, and they began putting out fires together.

Everyone expected the Mad Burnish to butt heads with the chief, but Ignis gave orders, and Lio followed them, which meant Gueira and Meis followed suit. Galo knew Lio was quick to learn. His mind was like a lightning strike, and he absorbed the new experiences like a goddamned sponge.

And like Galo, Lio had no fear.

That was a problem. Lio would forget that he was susceptible to burns, and burns he got, but he and his cohorts always healed faster than everyone else, unscarred. Perhaps that was the final gift the Promare had left their human hosts.

Burned lungs were another story.

(“Burnish are eternal,” Lio rasped in the ambulance as the medic strapped an oxygen mask to his head and told him to not waste his breath. “Or at least, we were.”)

And so, back to his couch—because it was _his_ now, squatter’s rights, old habits die hard and all—and that’s where Lio and his buddies had been for the past few days, still recovering from smoke inhalation and loudly wondering if smoke had always been that dense and suffocating.

“To think, Lio’s as dumb as you,” Lucia said to Galo that afternoon as he and Varys helped her patch up the truck.

“You two deserve each other,” Remi added from the door.

Galo had grinned and shrugged off their teasing because they always teased him, and he was simply happy to have another friend-in-arms; and Lio Fotia, with his infinite scowls, never seemed to mind when it was just him and Galo on the couch watching late-night reruns of Panty & Stocking while Meis and Gueira snored soundly on his other side because, well, Meis and Gueira had grown accustomed to Galo’s presence as well.

[ RIGHT HERE – _right now_ ]

“I got a letter,” Lio murmured that night, as Panty pistol-whipped some lucky man with her underwear. “I have to go away for a while.”

Galo stared at him over a bowl of ice cream they’d been sharing. It was the last bowl in the cupboard. Everyone shirked their cleaning duties that week, to the point where Aina had declared a domestic state of emergency. “What’s wrong? Someone bothering you? Oh, I get it—you need us to step in!”

Lio blinked at him with his large violet eyes and said with unmistakable sarcasm, “I didn’t know firefighters were also in the protection racket.”

“I’m just saying, if someone’s giving you a rough time, you bet your ass they’d think twice if an entire house of firefighters clapped back.”

“True.” Lio smiled wryly. “Foresight found that out the hard way, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he did.” Galo grinned, but he knew it wasn’t most his convincing grin. Lio’s eyes narrowed, clearly taking note, and Galo was thankful that he didn’t press it.

They turned back to the TV. A commercial for Gurren Lagann Power DrillsTM filled the silence. Galo finished the ice cream because Lio had only wanted a bite after all. Gueira coughed and rolled onto the ground with a thud. And he slept through it.

At last, Lio fell back against the couch, the backrest supporting the elegant curve of his neck, and he looked up at the ceiling. His eyelids drooped. “I _would_ like some company. Meis and Gueira have to stay and oversee the Burnish resettlement program in Promepolis…”

“If they're staying behind, then hell yeah I'm going with you,” said Galo, and Lio’s mouth quirked in a small grin that was both haughty and affectionate.

“Hmm. Who said I wanted _you?”_

Galo opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but he quickly gathered himself. “No one else has any vacation time _except_ me!” He jabbed a thumb at his bare chest and proudly declared, “I haven’t taken a day off since I started this job!”

“You’re a dedicated man, Galo. I respect that,” said Lio. His voice was gentle, breathy. Sleepy. “And we really do get along the best, don’t we?”

It was decided, then. Galo would accompany Lio to the Fotia Estate in Michigan, where Lio would stake a claim on his inheritance.

-

“Wait, what?” said Galo, staring up the colossal McMansion that loomed overhead, like a mountain and cloud had combined with gold trimmings and every bastardization of Greek architecture known to man. Galo noticed four fire hazards right off the bat.

[ FOTIA HOUSE – _Lio’s childhood home_ ]

“I, uhh—I guess I never took you for a rich kid,” said Galo, and Lio looked at him curiously from his ostentatious black motorcycle, silk cravat fluttering in the wind, looking every inch like an aristocrat in front of his manor. Galo blinked. “Oh, wait. I see it now.”

Eccentric tastes had to stem from somewhere, right?

Lio lifted the lion-headed handle and let it fall against the door with an earth-rattling slam. Before Galo could ask what the hell it was made of, the door opened instantly. A tall, red-headed butler took in Galo’s wild hair and bare chest with the utmost disdain, completely missing Lio altogether.

“I’ve returned, Amalio,” said Lio, flagging the man’s attention with a wave of his letter. The butler looked down sharply to locate him. “Call the tailor. I don’t want my companion to attend Mom’s funeral in bright orange pants and no shirt.”

“Wait, _what?”_ said Galo again.

-

Galo didn’t know what he’d been expecting when Lio explained the contents of the letter that morning. He could’ve sworn Lio said the funeral was already over, but he must have misheard while watching Lio buckle the four belts around his willowy thighs.

The truth was, Galo didn’t _want_ to go to a funeral, but it was generally unmanly and absolutely shitty to accompany Lio all the way to his childhood home only to abandon him at this moment of crisis. A funeral. Lio’s _mother’s_ funeral.

“I’m told it was cancer,” Lio said suddenly.

“I’m, um… I’m sorry to hear that,” Galo said, solemn as he could while the tailor adjusting his slacks stabbed him in the rear. He couldn’t ruin the moment, so, out of friendship, Galo tried really hard to stand still while a wrinkly old man wrapped him into a tight black suit before the three-panel mirror in Lio’s bedroom.

But Galo hadn’t wanted a new suit either, even if Lio was paying for it. It summoned memories of his first fitting, years ago, when it had been Kray Foresight’s money that put the suit on Galo’s back. The first of many gifts, if they could be called that.

How had Kray done it—done _everything_—when he’d hated Galo with every fiber of his massive being?

“Doctors diagnosed it after I left, so I didn’t know.” The soft tones of Lio’s voice brought Galo back to the present, and Galo breathed again, his heart unclenching.

Today, it was _Lio_ who watched from the antique chaise behind him, and Lio was restless. He stood and wandered the room. Galo followed his reflection, a slight and graceful thing. Very different from Kray.

Lio was Lio.

“By then, it was too late.” He thumbed through a row of identical silk shirts that were apparently different enough for him to flip back and forth for comparison. “Well. I couldn’t have done anything about it. Burnish were being tortured in the world, and after we met—” He waved his hand in exasperation, as if to denote the period in which Galo entered his life— “And then after _that_, I had to serve some of my time before I could travel.”

“What do you mean by ‘serve time?’” asked Galo.

“Court-mandated community service. In the form of firefighting.”

“Oh,” said Galo, and he felt disappointed before he could stop himself. “That’s why you joined Burning Rescue, huh?”

“I couldn’t just join _any_ station. It had to be yours,” said Lio, and Galo’s mood perked back up at that. “My freedom depends on the fire chief’s approval, and I figured Ignis Ex would be more lenient with me, considering what he lets _you_ get away with.”

“Oh,” said Galo, disappointed again, and Lio seemed to notice because Galo tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. Lio clicked his tongue and turned his back to him.

“And it had to be yours because…” Lio paused, pulling open a drawer of wristwatches that looked pretty much the same to Galo, save for a few color variations. Lio selected a teal-faced one with a thick rose-gold band and came back to slide it around Galo’s wrist. It was a little snug but not uncomfortable, probably fitted with Lio in mind. He turned to their reflection with his brows knitted. “Because my burning soul matches your burning spirit.”

If this was Lio’s attempt to be kind, or even playful, the gesture landed… _strangely_.

Kray had given Galo a watch, too, after the reelection rally that had required the suit. A state-of-the-art smartwatch. It had been big for Galo, who hadn’t bulked up to his current size until he reached his twenties, but Galo had _treasured_ it because he’d _idolized_ Kray.

Kray had saved his life when he was child (a lie). He’d been Galo’s elusive saint in white throughout his turbulent teens (keeping tabs on him), and he’d given Galo a life mission right after high school when he promised Galo a spot on the Burning Rescue team (to have him die on the job).

(Thank god Galo was an idiot because if he'd pieced everything together by himself, Kray would've certainly taken the risk to have him outright assassinated.)

“The watch is one of a kind,” Kray had told him then with his kind smile, his _fake_ smile. “Come see me at Foresight Foundation for software updates.”

And of course, Galo went as soon as the watch pinged. Never even thought twice about it whenever the reminder window popped up. And it had gone on like that, up until Lio Fotia rampaged into their lives. Wow.

In hindsight, Galo could’ve at least thought about it _once_, maybe. Well, being an idiot did have its drawbacks.

Galo swallowed a lump in his throat as Lio rested his head on his arm, feeling like his heart was bathed in oil, hot and sizzling. Heat flooded up his neck. And it was heading south, too. _Damn, damn, damn_. He wondered how long Lio would linger against him, and realized that it didn’t matter, _damn it,_ because he would stand here for as long as Lio needed a shoulder to lean on. That was the right thing to do, and it was what Galo _wanted_ to do.

But he didn’t breathe again until Lio wandered away.

Galo Thymos ran headlong into things if he was even _fifty-one percent_ sure about them because everyone knew that fifty-one rounded up, so it was as good as a hundred percent. And if he was wrong, then he’d put in every effort he could to fix his mistake. No regrets. He didn’t know how else to live but to move forward, so he couldn’t let these old feelings mess with him. They didn’t apply anymore. Everything was different. Don’t dwell in the past. Live in the present.

Lio wasn’t Kray, and Galo was here for Lio, to attend the funeral of Lio’s mother, whom Galo had never met.

Wait, was that okay?

“You can tell me to buzz off, y’know.” Lio looked up from a tray of cufflinks to show he was listening, and Galo continued sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to barge in on this family thing you’ve got going on.”

Lio fiddled with a pair in silver and diamond, which didn’t look that different from the cufflinks he hadn’t picked, if you asked Galo’s opinion. They glinted like little sparks in his hand, and he set them back down.

“She would have liked you, and I’d rather have you here than not,” he said at last. He sat back on the chaise, manspreading like he owned the place.

_(He does own this place,_ Galo had to remind himself, even though Lio did that everywhere.)

But Lio’s words were all Galo needed to raise his spirits. He stretched his arms to test the fabric and whirled around to show off his new suit. The tailor ducked to avoid his elbows. With a hop and a step, Galo closed the distance between Lio and himself, until their knees almost touched and Lio was looking up at him like a watchful housecat. Galo flashed him a grin.

“Not bad, huh?”

“Turn around. Slowly this time,” said Lio, and Galo acquiesced with an exaggerated sigh. Lio’s eyes went up and down and up again, and he relented, “Good. You look _good.”_

Galo beamed at the hard-won praise. “C'mon, with a bod like this, you can always count on me to look good, baby.”

“I swear to god...” Lio flung two neckties at him. “Here. Do you want to wear the black with the burnt ginger pattern or black with the burnt umber pattern?”

“You pick!” Galo decided because the ties were also identical.

-

[ A FEW YEARS AGO – _before Galo joined Burning Rescue_ ]

Galo was fifty hours into the EMT certification program and already cramming for the exam—just in case an old lady keeled over in front of him on the street one day—when his Foresight Foundation watch required its first update.

In time, he would get used to the layout of Foresight Tower, but he’d never forget his first time there. He’d never seen anything so polished and pristine—a perfect extension of Kray Foresight—and he’d been _so_ impatient to see his hero that he’d tapped his foot and fidgeted the entire ride up the elevator. People in business suits and lab coats went in and out. The higher he got, the ritzier their clothes became, and he’d ended up feeling so out of place in his jeans and Fire Academy hoodie that he took the stairs for the last six floors. A little extra training never hurt anyone.

Unfortunately, that meant Galo had been kind of sweaty and out of breath when he reached Kray’s office at the top. He didn’t have to sprint his way up, but at least his heart rate was healthy, according to the watch.

Kray’s assistant took it downstairs to the lab techs. Nice woman, Biar Colossus. She sent Galo a holiday card with Kray’s signature on it every winter, and on that day, she'd left Galo with a can of organic sugarcane soda and a chilled glass. Fancy.

Galo was in the middle of popping the the tab when Kray reached an arm over his desk. “Good to see you as always. I’ll make sure you get the watch in the mail by the end of the week.”

“Oh,” said Galo, surprised that he was being shown the door so soon. He was hoping maybe he and Kray would shoot the breeze a little. Nothing that would take up too much of the man’s time. Galo knew the governor was busy. Very busy. Much too busy for Galo. Oh well, at least Galo got to see him in person again. “Yeah, no—great. Great seeing you, too!”

He fumbled his drink and dropped it in his haste to take Kray’s hand. The can hit the desk and splashed them both.

Galo voiced the first thought that popped into his head, which was, “Good thing you didn’t have anything on your desk.” After he said that, he realized that he sure as hell couldn’t afford to replace anything he might destroy here.

Galo’s next thought was, naturally, that he’d made the right call on Satsuki soda. Imagine staining Governor Kray Foresight’s iconic white suit with Cherry Ryuko, _wow_, that would have been pretty embarrassing. He laughed at the near disaster and whipped off his hoodie to soak up the mess he’d made. He hadn’t been wearing anything underneath, but they were both men, so it was whatever.

Kray watched him work, his face a pleasant mask. “I hear you’re working on your EMT certification while training at the Fire Academy.”

“Yeah, I am!” said Galo, happy for another shot at conversation. “Just trying to check off all the boxes as soon as I can, and y’know—join Burning Rescue.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I figured I’d start pestering my instructors for a recommendation letter next—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kray interrupted. “I’ve already drafted one for you.”

Galo looked up at him, mouth agape. A recommendation letter from Kray Foresight, himself, would seal the deal for sure. It was just too good to be true.

“Are you serious?” Galo began, but no, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. He didn’t know where he was going with this. “Governor Foresight, look, you’ve already done so much for me—"

“Have a nice day, Galo,” Kray said evenly, extending his hand again.

Galo stared at it, his mind as blank as a new notebook. All he knew was that he didn’t want this moment to end. Not when it had been so weird and awkward, and definitely not after Kray had been so generous. Galo’s career was set, all thanks to him, and Galo didn’t know what to say.

Surely, he had _something_ to tell Kray. It’d been months since Galo had last spoken to him without cameras in their faces.

Not to mention he’d never, ever been able to express his gratitude to Kray after the fire either, too traumatized by his own experience to realize Kray had lost an arm in the fiasco. All Galo could remember were the moments when the large man had held him close, _so_ close that Galo could feel his heartbeat. Galo had felt _safe_ then, pressed against Kray’s sturdy body, surrounded by hot air and smoke. He knew everything would be all right, even as his home and everyone inside burned before his very eyes.

_“Thanks.”_ Galo swallowed and took Kray’s hand properly this time. He blinked back the awful, hazy memories and looked up at Kray, whose gentle expression had taken on a thoughtful shade that Galo couldn’t quite identify. It made his heart rise in his chest because maybe he could convince Kray to let him stay a bit longer. Just long enough to say thank you, _thank you so much_. “Gov, I owe you more than I—”

“Galo.” Kray covered Galo’s hand with his prosthetic palm. It was a gentle touch, so light that Galo could forget it was metal under that pristine white glove. His voice was as soft and comforting as always, and Galo couldn’t help but be drawn in, like a moth to the flame. “Galo,” Kray said again, “you know you can call me Kray, right?”

In hindsight, Galo should have seen the signs, but at the time, he had been so relieved. Thrilled, even.

“Kray,” he’d said, obediently, and when Kray brushed his big palm beneath Galo's chin, lifting it, Galo had leaned into his touch like it was home.


	2. they've burnt to ashes // faded to grey // returned to the earth // it is meant to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lio rides his motorcycle into a church, and Galo gets fucked in good and bad ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: there is a graphic KrayGalo sex scene, Galo is over eighteen in it.

It started early, Galo’s crush on Kray Foresight. It might have even started the moment they met.

He’d been running through the flames and smoke, everything he knew on fire, when he found Kray, and Galo had clung to him, nothing more than a frightened child. Kray was big and strong and _there_. It was that simple, _instantaneous_.

That could have been the extent of their relationship, a boy and his savior, but then, the cameras arrived. Galo felt Kray’s thick arm around him, and he looked up.

God, what a mistake.

Oh, Kray. Lit by the blaze, with hot air and sparks shimmering around him—blond hair alight like sunrise itself—and all Galo saw was a guardian angel. _His_ guardian angel. So grand. Majestic. And as Kray spoke calmly with the charisma of the flames behind him, Galo cried and cried into Kray’s shirt, and he didn’t let go until child services came to collect him.

He had no idea what Kray had done or what Kray was planning.

But Kray never strayed far in his mind, still wandering Galo’s dreams to this day.

-

[ BACK TO THE PRESENT – _the funeral_ ]

There were three men weeping on the pulpit, positively bawling beside the casket, as they delivered their eulogies. Each was handsome and shirtless, each buffer than the last.

“The hell? How come they get to stand there half-naked, but I can’t?” Galo grumbled, tugging on the collar of his dress shirt. It was stiffer than drywall.

They had arrived late thanks to the fitting, windswept from their bikes, and earned a backwards glance from every one of Lio’s extended relatives inside the church. Wordlessly, Lio directed Galo into the last pew, right in front of the door, and took the seat next to him.

Lio rested a dainty ankle on his knee and looked slightly embarrassed. _“You_ can’t because you came with me, and I didn’t want anyone mistaking you for one of my mother’s.”

“One of your mother’s…?” Galo began, but it clicked, suddenly, what Lio meant. He snorted into his fist and tried to pass it off as a cough.

Well, congratulations on the fine selection of sugar babies, Mrs. Fotia.

Lio bit his lower lip to keep himself from grinning too wide at his own mother’s funeral. “If it had been her _birthday_ instead of her funeral, I would _not_ have brought you with me.”

“Or, you could’ve,” Galo mused slyly, “and saved yourself an expensive birthday present.”

An unexpected bubble of a laugh escaped from Lio’s mouth, and he buried his face in his cravat to smother it. “Shut up, shut up,” he hissed, his ears pink with mirth.

Despite what little Galo knew about Lio’s mother, something told him that this was how she would’ve wanted Lio to attend her funeral. Not crying, grieving, and miserable, but amused by his memories of how she lived her life. Galo went with his gut and ventured on, grinning, “You gonna follow in her footsteps?”

Lio looked at him, startled, his cheeks glowing and his eyes wide. And intrigued. Before he could respond, a young, blond man sitting directly in front of them turned around and frowned smugly. Galo could see the family resemblance.

“Excuse me, it’s rude to gossip about the deceased.”

Galo didn’t get a chance to speak, as Lio pointed a finger at the man and accused, “Brant, you once tried to drown me in the pool at Grandpapa’s summer house when we were six. Turn back around.”

Brant did a doubletake and went back to minding his own business.

Lio continued as if their conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “Galo Thymos, are you saying you deserve to be spoiled?”

“Hah?” Galo put on his best idiot face and winked. “Well, I sure as hell don’t deserve your sass.” He wasn’t sure what he was expecting in return—maybe a laugh or a haughty ‘idiot’ in Lio’s trademark scoff. He kind of liked those.

He didn’t expect Lio’s eyes to soften and fill with warmth, but he should have. He knew Lio better these days, after all. Whatever else Galo had to say died on his tongue because Galo had learned to be more careful whenever Lio let his walls down. If Galo was good to Lio, he reasoned with himself, then maybe Lio would do it again.

And Lio _did_, often enough to give Galo a look inside of his heart without having to literally merge into him. Galo got to see the softer sides of Lio that he’d only glimpsed when they’d met. He’d seen Lio sleepily making sure that Gueira and Meis had adequate blankets before nodding off in exhaustion himself. Lio joining the search for Vinny in earnest, when their little firehouse rodent had gotten trapped inside the communal microwave. And of course, there was Lio promising a child he’d retrieve her doll from a burning building and then _making good_ on that promise.

Galo’s heart burned hot with pride whenever he thought about how lucky he was to have Lio as a friend. And surely Lio felt the same about him, asking Galo to accompany him here so that he wouldn’t be sad and alone because _no one_ _else_ in his family seemed to care about him.

Well, _Galo_ would care. Funny how it felt like Lio knew what made Galo tick within the first week of their acquaintance. Galo was forever catching up, slowly piecing together the mystery of Lio Fotia.

Lio turned back to the pulpit and let his head rest on Galo’s shoulder as they listened to the eulogy.

“Thank you for being here,” he whispered.

Galo smiled to himself, his fiery heart beating a little faster. “That’s what I’m good at.”

-

[BACK IN THE PAST – _when Kray began his career_ ]

To think, Galo Thymos might have gone on to live a normal life, had Kray not used him as the crux of his gubernatorial campaign.

Galo’s foster home was a little townhouse just outside of the inner loop, with ivy growing along the wall. He’d been getting used to it when Kray Foresight darkened their door, an impressive silhouette. With little more than polite words and a gentle smile, the man had won over Galo’s foster parents, a nice couple from a far east island. They still sent Galo presents on his birthday.

Galo, of course, had long been charmed by Kray Foresight.

Kray was a self-made billionaire then, thanks to his research. He’d sat Galo down and laid out his plans to run for governor of their city. Back then, it was already so big and sprawling that it’d covered the entire state, and Kray wanted to clean it all up. Start from the ground up and rework the infrastructure to really protect it from Burnish attacks. It would be brand new by the time he was done, and he’d call it _Promepolis_.

(“Twenty fire hydrants on every street!” – that was the campaign motto, one he delivered on by the end of his first term.)

Kray had tapped Galo lightly on the sternum and said, “I believe you and I have a story that will win over the voters.”

And Galo had eagerly participated in every event Kray called him on.

It had been a strange but fantastic year campaigning, and it made Galo very popular in school. Kids thought he was a celebrity, always showing up on TV with the young, dashing candidate who easily outshined the incumbent. The former governor was a dull and boring man, and the rest of the city must have thought so, too—since Kray Foresight had won that election by a landslide.

“I want Promepolis to be a beacon for mankind,” Kray had said in his victory speech, confetti snowing around him, with his hand covering Galo’s shoulder, “and I want to bring mankind to a glorious future.”

Brilliant, blinding; Kray Foresight. Galo had looked at him with stars in his eyes, and they hadn’t left until that night in the wreckage of Spaceship Parnassus.

In a way, Galo grew up at Kray’s side. He learned early on to not make trouble, or else he’d be kicked out of politics. That meant displeasing Kray. Distancing him from Kray. As long as Galo was good, Kray would call on him every four years for his reelection campaign.

And between those stints were media ops. Galo joined Little League on a whim for a few years, and Kray had honored him by making an annual appearance for the playoffs. Governor Foresight would throw a pitch and give a speech about protecting children from ‘the Burnish issue.’ Kray had been passionate about policies controlling the Burnish, for reasons Galo wouldn’t understand until he met Lio. At the time, Galo had beamed from his team bench, delirious with pride that Kray was here because of him. He thought Kray had been looking out for him, making sure Galo would never get caught up in another fire.

And all Galo had to do was stand there and be good for him.

-

[ THE FUNERAL – _Lio says goodbye to his mother_ ]

Lio peered into the casket, confused.

He nearly climbed inside before stepping back, glancing about for answers. The woman behind him avoided his gaze. The man behind her scoffed at him. Nobody in the line would help. Something was wrong. From his spot in the back, Galo could see the panic in his eyes, but then Lio whirled back to the casket, as if to confirm one more time before he gripped it by the side and dragged it off its platform.

The box crashed to the ground, empty.

“Where is she?” Lio said coldly, pointing to the casket. “Where is my mother?”

He was met with silence so loud that it hurt to bear. Galo itched to jump up to the pulpit where Lio stood and help him—ask questions, straighten things out, anything to take that look of hurt from Lio’s face.

But years of being on Kray’s team kept him in his seat.

_Do not make a scene at a formal function. Do not outshine the man you are here to support. Do not make things harder for him._

So, Galo sat there, frozen, until the butler Amalio moved quietly to Lio’s side.

“She was Burnish,” he whispered, but the acoustics carried his voice across the building. Galo thought he saw everyone flinch at the word. “Freeze Force took her away sometime after you left. I only received a letter confirming her death this week.”

“What?” said Lio, face pale under the rafter lights. “But you said…”

“I thought it would be better if you didn’t know… Sorry.”

Lio stood there, looking lost in front of his mother’s empty casket as his own relatives flung icy stares at him like hailstones, murmuring amongst themselves, _Burnish, both mother and son, how terrible, a stain on the family name_—until Galo couldn’t take it anymore, and he jumped up.

“Why the hell are you even here if you didn’t like her?!” he roared from the back, his voice echoing around the arches. Lio turned to him, as if Galo had thrown him a lifeline. “And if Lio’s mom was Burnish, then why didn’t she go straight to Lio?! What happened to her?!”

“She knew I was the leader of Mad Burnish,” said Lio, his voice thick. “She would’ve come to me if she was Burnish. We stayed in contact until she stopped responding to my messages. That was when Freeze Force took her, wasn’t it?” Amalio looked away. Lio pressed further, “And for her to have not left a body when she died—she must have still been Burnish. That means… _Kray Foresight_…”

As Lio pieced together his mother’s fate, his expression shifted from that of confusion to one Galo _knew_. His stomach sank because he first saw it inside the cave, back when Lio had all his walls up, back when he told Galo to shut up because he was ruining their dinner and they had so little to begin with.

Back when Lio desperate and angry and ready to die for his cause.

Galo stepped forward, “Lio, cool it—!”

_“Who reported her to Freeze Force?!”_ Lio shouted, turning to somebody—_anybody_. They all moved away. “One of you ratted her out immediately after her first Burnish spasm, didn’t you?! And you watched as they froze her—carried her off to be tortured! Killed! Which one of you did it?!” Lio looked around wildly, alone in the aisle, his eyes manic, accusing. _“Which one of you killed her?!”_

Silence again, save for Lio’s ragged breaths and sharp steps. It was like a demented, maddening game of tag, where everyone was staring at him, and they all moved when he approached, but they didn’t leave. They shied just out of his grasp.

Galo reached for him as he passed, but Lio struck his hand away as if he didn’t recognize Galo. He walked a straight line out the double doors, and Galo ran after him. He reached the bottom of the steps right as Lio jammed his key into the ignition.

Lio’s beloved motorcycle, Detroit 1.0, came to life with an ominous purr.

“Good riddance,” an elderly aunt called after them from the doors, but Galo wasn’t so sure Lio was leaving. It was true that Lio didn’t have his Burnish powers anymore, so he wasn’t the powerhouse he used to be. He couldn’t summon a flame dragon to tear apart a city, to be a one-man firework spectacular, to intimidate with his duo-tone inferno.

But Lio didn’t need it.

“Get away from the door,” said Galo, stumbling up the steps. He rushed back inside and shouted, “Everyone, _away_ from the door—!”

With a thundering _vroom_, Lio rode past him, reeking of exhaust fumes and burnt rubber. The Fotias yelped and scuttled in their black garments, but Lio was demonically fast, clipping around them until he’d trapped them in an island of uneven pews. Like a wolf around a quaking herd of sheep.

_“Who gave her away?!”_ he demanded as he circled them with a roar. _“Which one of you sent the Freeze Force on her and had the gall to come to her funeral?!”_

“Cut it out—_Lio!”_ Galo jumped in his path, and Lio swerved, drifting two full circles down the aisle before his bike squealed to a halt at the entrance.

He set his foot down. “This has nothing to do with you, Galo Thymos.”

Galo’s stomach always clenched when Lio called him by his full name, and this time was no exception. He puffed his chest out and met Lio head-on. “Let them go. They’re your family.”

“One of them betrayed my mother.”

“And the others?” said Galo. “You _always_ let the innocent go!”

“One of them betrayed my mother and _killed_ her,” said Lio through his teeth. He breathed out, and Galo could’ve sworn he saw steam. “The others may leave.”

At these words, his relatives—one by one—looked up to the casket where Amalio stood, stock still, fearful.

“Huh,” said Galo, “so, the butler did it.”

“Everyone else out,” Lio commanded. The Fotias stared at him, until he revved his engine. _“Now.”_

Without another moment’s hesitation, they hurried out from the sides and disappeared behind him, until it was just him, Galo, and Amalio in the church.

Lio bolted down the aisle like a mad bull.

“Damn it.” Galo turned around to run up the pulpit, but Lio popped a wheelie and cleared the stairs with a jump. Galo whirled to face him. Amalio shrieked as Lio pinned him down against the casket between his wheels.

“Stop it, Lio,” said Galo.

_“Out of my way,”_ Lio snarled back.

But Galo had nowhere to go, wedged between Lio and Amalio.

Lio slammed his foot into Galo’s neck. Galo grabbed the offending ankle. God, it was slim. Galo could wrap his hand around it with his thumb touching the tips of his fingers. And even more distracting was the fact that Lio was wearing high heels today, three inches with hot pink soles. How was he wearing them on a motorcycle? Then again, Lio had no problem waltzing around in his Burnish armor, which put his feet in literal pencil points—

Okay, okay, this was not the time to be distracted.

“‘Burnish don’t kill for no reason,’” Galo quoted Lio’s own words right back at him.

Lio revved his engine menacingly in response, black fumes billowing out around them. “I have questions.”

“I’m sorry!” Amalio wailed from underneath Galo.

“It’s too late for apologies,” said Lio.

“I was afraid,” Amalio explained. Tears in his eyes.

_“Then, why didn’t you call me?!”_ Lio barked, stamping on Galo for emphasis, which he absolutely did not need to do. “You _knew_ I was the leader of Mad Burnish, and yet you never turned me in, never gave up my location when I wrote you! So, _why_? Why did you do this?”

“I’m sorry…”

_“How could you betray her?!”_

The butler sobbed as he pulled off his perfectly white gloves, revealing the most horrifically burned hands Galo had ever seen. Lio inhaled sharply, his eyes widening.

“I’m sorry,” said Amalio. “It happened so fast. I was afraid, and I didn’t think they’d actually take her away... I didn’t think I’d never see her again…”

Lio’s shoulders sank. “They took her and tortured her and… _killed_ her…”

But the fire was gone. Rage extinguished. Because this was _not_ Kray Foresight, but a scared young man who had been set aflame when he least expected it—and so, this did _not_ warrant the anger Lio Fotia had learned to mostly let go.

“I’m sorry,” Amalio said again. “She was my mother, too.”

Lio suddenly looked very tired. “Of course, she was.”

-

[ THE PAST – _the first time_ ]

Of course, Kray was going to fuck him. Of course.

Galo had been asking for it, even if he hadn’t realized it himself: worshipping Kray, unable to keep his hands off Kray and his big, strong arms. Kray had simply taken what Galo unknowingly offered. And yeah, it was a little messed up that they’d known each other since before Galo’s voice had dropped, but that was also Galo’s fault. Nobody stripped half-naked in front of a man they were ride-or-die for without hoping to get noticed.

And nobody left that encounter by heading straight for the nearest men’s room to jerk off.

(Nobody was _specifically_ Galo in this situation, by the way.)

That was the first time Galo had connected two and two, alone and panting inside an empty restroom with his pants around his ankles. He couldn’t even remember which floor he was on. It was a blur on the way down. The warmth of Kray’s hand had set something boiling in Galo’s blood, and now that it was gone, all Galo could do was stare at the cooling semen in his hand, mortified by what he’d done.

There was a special circle of hell for Galo Thymos, wasn’t there?

His childhood idolization of Kray Foresight must have taken a perverse swerve sometime during puberty, but damned if Galo knew when. He sat in the stall for at least twenty minutes, forlorn in the aftermath of his deed, knowing there was no way he could possibly face Kray again, no matter how many times he washed his hands.

Oh, and he’d forgotten his sweatshirt in Kray’s office. It was actually his roommate’s. Well, it was gone now.

God damn.

A week later, Galo received his watch in the mail. It beeped as soon as he turned it back on, requiring another update.

“Weird,” Galo had said without another thought as he made his way back to Foresight Foundation HQ.

He hadn’t forgotten, but he thought he could leave the watch with someone at the front desk and then mosey on out without Kray knowing he was there.

He was wrong.

“Galo,” Kray said as the sliding doors opened between them. “What brings you here today?”

“Governor Foresight! I—watch—_update_,” Galo replied ineloquently as his heart jumped into his mouth. Fortunately, Kray seemed to understand what Galo meant when he held out his arm to show Kray his watch.

He gave a dismayed little tsk. “Goodness, that shouldn’t have happened at all. I do apologize for the inconvenience.” Before Galo could protest the idea of Kray Foresight inconveniencing him, Kray unclasped Galo’s watch from his wrist and gave it to Biar. “Will you see that the matter is settled? And dinner would be good, too. I’d like to try that new pizzeria in town. Galo, you like pizza, don’t you?”

Galo could hardly hear through his own heartbeat as his blood rushed to his face, but he never passed up free food. “Y-yeah!”

“I thought so,” Kray said pleasantly. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me? I was so busy last time that we didn’t get a chance to catch up properly.”

Galo hesitated. Kray was so handsome today. Everyday. Now that Galo could recognize his own attraction to the man, it made things complicated. Being alone with Kray in his office, chatting about life—_oh_, that was the very definition of paradise. On the other hand, _Kray’s _hands_._ Galo wanted them on him. It felt so wrong to sexualize his childhood hero like this, and if Galo popped a boner mid-conversation, he would positively die.

This was his last chance to leave.

“Besides, I’m sure you want your fire academy sweater back, don’t you?” Kray smiled at him, and it was all over for Galo.

Defeated, he nodded mutely and followed Kray into the elevator like a puppy after its master.

Two hours later, Biar landed on Kray’s floor to find Galo bent over the desk, gasping, with Kray’s cock up his ass. She set the boxes of pizza next to Galo and then the watch. He barely noticed her presence, distracted by Kray’s heat turning his senses to fire.

“Tech solved the problem,” she said.

“Wonderful,” Kray replied, barely out of breath as he fucked a strangled moan out of Galo. “You have impeccable timing as always, Biar. Galo must be feeling a little hungry by now.” He reached forward and grabbed Galo by the hair, lifting his chin off the desk, forcing his back into an arch. “Well, Galo?”

“Yes—yes, sir,” Galo panted, embarrassed, his brain fried, but feeling too damn good to care. Kray filled him up better than he’d ever dreamed, and he’d had a lot of messy dreams that week.

“I’m finishing up here,” said Kray, holding down the small of Galo’s back, almost covering it entirely with his palm as he thrust into Galo, sharp and shallow. Galo twitched, whining. He couldn’t move. Kray liked him this way. “Would you mind going over the unsettled matters from earlier?”

“There was only the one,” Biar said, nonchalant. She took a seat on the desk as Galo shivered with the sensation of Kray’s full length inside him. “The fire academy would like you to give a speech for the graduating class.”

“That’s right.” Kray gave Galo’s hair another tug and pulled out just enough to make Galo miss him. “You finish your training next month, Galo. Would you like me to attend the ceremony for you?”

Galo cried when Kray hit his prostate again, _hard, _hard enough to make him come on the spot. He whimpered, vision white, breath stuttering in his throat, “Y-yes, _please_. Please, please, please…”

“I think we can arrange that,” Kray said, his voice warm, and he let Galo fall back onto the desk.

“Thank you,” Galo breathed, staring blindly through tears at the pizza boxes and the watch at his side, but he couldn’t be sure just what he was thanking Kray for.

-

[ THE PRESENT – _the now_ ]

From his balcony, Lio gazed down at the burned wreckage of the backyard garden.

“That’s where it happened.” He pointed it out to Galo. “And then, Freeze Force took her.”

A brisk wind had picked up after sunset, and Lio shivered in the autumn air. Galo took off his jacket and wrapped it around Lio. Lio grabbed him by the forearms.

And then wrapped them around himself.

Galo paused, unsure of what Lio was doing, but slowly let his cheek rest against Lio’s soft, fluffy hair. It smelled like tea tree oil today. Lio seemed satisfied with the arrangement. He settled back into Galo’s embrace.

“I called Meis,” he said. “Had him crosscheck the Burnish names and casualties in our database. Turns out we’d been missing a chunk that the Foresight Foundation had been holding onto until last week.” Lio clicked his tongue. “Galo, she was there at the prison, the one I went to. Two months before I got there.”

Galo’s heart ached, and he squeezed Lio. Lio’s breath hitched.

“I was too late. I didn’t know. Kray Foresight had already gotten to her. If I’d moved up my operations by two months…”

Galo hugged Lio so tight that surely Lio would never feel cold again. “Lio! You can’t think like that! Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” said Galo because he’s thought a lot about this in the past couple of days. “You can’t actually move on if you’re always thinking, ‘Well, in hindsight,’ you know what I mean?” He dug his chin into Lio’s head, drawing a squeak of indignation.

“Galo—” Lio wriggled, but Galo held firm.

“You said so yourself that you didn’t know, so you did your best! And if you doubt yourself at your best, then that’s just gonna slow you down. That’s what I think anyway, and you know what? I think I’m right!”

“Are you telling me not to believe in myself,” Lio said uncertainly, “but to believe in you who believes in me?”

“Hah? Is that what I said?” Galo frowned. “I guess it sounds kinda dumb when you put it that way.”

Lio laughed and turned around, and he wrapped his arms around Galo’s waist. “So, if hindsight is twenty-twenty, what does that make Foresight?”

Galo’s stomach did a little flip at the name, but he grinned and said, “An ass.”

Lio laughed again, nestling into the curve of Galo’s throat. “That’s what I like to hear.”

-

Lio had Amalio show him his mother’s will right after the funeral, so he already knew the absolute mayhem that would greet them in the main hall.

As they descended the grand staircase that looked like it had been ripped out of the Von Trapp mansion in the Sound of Music, all eyes turned to them. All the aunts and uncles and cousins of Lio Fotia, dressed in their finest black mourning garb, studded in jewels, were _glaring_ at Lio. 

[ THE FOTIA CLAN – _are out for blood_ ]

“We’re in for it now.” Galo grinned, blood pumping, clicking into rescue mode as he clocked the exits in the building.

“I’ve got this,” said Lio with a cold smile, lifting his hands to address his furious family in a level of showmanship that Galo hadn’t seen since their first encounter.

“Liona can’t leave the whole damn thing to you!” someone shouted from below.

“She left her lovers three million each,” Lio replied calmly. “The rest is mine.”

“I took care of you and your mother after Leonidas passed! She should have left me something!” a blonde aunt yelled at him, and Lio pointed to her.

“You tried to run her over with your Mercedes after she made your husband her second Himbo-in-Command.”

She turned red and disappeared, only to be replaced by a middle-aged man with violet eyes.

“After everything I’ve done for Leonidas Fotia and his bitch of a wife—You’ll be hearing from my lawyers!”

“You’ve never had any claim over my estate,” Lio replied, redirecting his finger to him. “And if I remember right, you were alone with my late father at the time of the ‘unfortunate hunting accident.’”

The man shut up immediately, but more relatives clamored in his place. One by one, Lio shot them down, burning bridges and setting fires along the branches of the Fotia family tree:

“You broke my mother’s nose just so you could win the Miss America pageant of ‘86.”

“You bulldozed Grand-Mère’s lakeside cottage to keep the rest of the family from finding her crown jewels.”

“You’ve been stealing silverware from our house every Christmas for the last twenty years.”

“You tried to make me blow you when I was ten.”

Similar accusations popped up from Lio’s cousins at that last one, until one plaintive voice cried, “You mean, we didn’t _have_ to?!”

Lio folded his arms across his chest and said, “I’ve been watching all of you since I was born. If you don’t want me airing your dirty laundry and ruining whatever good names you have remaining, then get out of my house.”

An elderly aunt gave one last-ditch attempt at shaming, “You and your selfish mother—you Burnish always stick together, don’t you?!” to which Lio only responded, “Yes,” and that was it.

Grudgingly, each relative left, some without a word of farewell, until Lio stood alone with Galo at the base of the stairs. It wasn’t until the last cousin closed the door behind her that Galo felt the tension leave his shoulders. He’d been standing behind Lio the entire time, following Lio’s orders: _look big and menacing, and don’t you DARE say a word._ To his credit, not a single man or woman (or whatever androgyne that seemed to crop up frequently in Lio’s bloodline) made an attempt on Lio’s life.

Fortunate that Lio was the only one with any balls in the family.

Amalio came back with the dinner bell and looked around in confusion. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re gone,” said Lio. “We’ll leave in the morning, too. The house and all my mother’s liquid assets are yours.”

“What?” said Amalio, dropping his bell. Lio regarded his bastard brother with a small smile.

“I’m happy with my life in Promepolis,” he said plainly. Galo’s heart fluttered a little. “And I don’t need the money. I have enough from the Foresight settlement. I do want the businesses and chain franchises under the Fotia name, though, to employ ex-Burnish around the country. We can finalize the papers in the morning. For now, let’s have dinner.” Galo’s stomach grumbled at the reminder.

“Oh, no,” said Amalio. He looked sheepish. “I poisoned everything. I was going to kill everyone and then set the house on fire with all of us in it.”

Lio went silent at the sudden development, looking as if he wished he hadn’t been so quick to send his family out the door. Burnish don’t kill without reason, but it sounded to Galo that Lio had quite a few reasons to want them dead. “I see. You can burn the house down _after_ Galo and I leave.”

“C’mon, Lio, you can’t say that as a firefighter,” Galo protested.

“But it’s fun.”

“I may rethink my plans anyway,” said Amalio, laughing an awkward laugh. “For now, I guess… I’ll call a pizza place or something?”

“Oh! Sounds good!” said Galo, relieved. “I could go for a spicy margherita after that!”

Amalio gave Lio a confused little half-bow before running off to order food and undo his wicked work.

Now, alone at last, Galo turned around to find Lio climbing up the steps. Lio looked at him over his shoulder. “Well, Galo?” he said. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me?”

In that moment, Galo flushed red.

_Oh_.

Oh, _no_.

It was happening again.

He’d gone through this whole thing before, and in recognizing it, the strange, warm feelings that have been bubbling uncertainly inside him for the last few months crystallized into something hot and yearning.

Fuck Galo, it was happening _again_.

This time, for _Lio_. For his determination and his bossy nature. For his cleverness, his forthrightness, his sharpness and softness. For his limberness, and for how easily he fit in Galo’s arms. Even his anger, which was integral to his very nature, Galo liked. He realized he liked it a lot.

He liked Lio.

God damn it, dammit, _dammit_. If Galo wasn’t so fucking _stupid_, he’d had been able to see what the _fuck_ was going on between them, and he’d actually be more fucking _prepared_ to—

To do _what?_ Accept? Reject?

How could he reject _Lio?_

But Galo had also liked Kray, and _trusted_ him, and that had gone horribly wrong.

Galo liked Lio. And some hurt part of him told him not to do this again—but every other fiber of his being was egging him onward, _do now, think later, c’mon it’s Lio Fotia for fuck’s sake, Lio!_

“Galo?” said Lio, his gaze full of intent.

And Galo ran upstairs after him, like a big dog after its master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The KrayGalo sex scene received a saucy fanart from C! Thanks!! Check it out here [[18+ Link]](https://i.imgur.com/mro7iwp.png).


	3. they would carry me home // they'd lead me to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galo relearns intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why I thought I could fit two sex scenes, Lio spoiling Galo, and an entire election arc into one chapter because I couldn’t. So, one more chapter after this one.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: this entire chapter is sex and Galo working through his feelings. It begins with a graphic KrayGalo sex scene, with toys, manipulation, and Galo whump. The scene after is a graphic LioGalo sex scene; don’t worry, it’s happy. Lio is also older than eighteen.

Kray Foresight’s patience was extraordinary, but it never extended to Galo’s creativity with titles. Galo learned that early on when he changed his hamster’s name every week: Mr. Meatball, Pierogi-roni, Super Spy, etc. He carried that little guy in his pocket for months when he was ten.

“His name is Silent Soldier now,” Galo had told Kray, giving his hamster to his hero.

And Kray had looked at the dead rodent in his hand with a strained smile. “Ah.”

Fast-forward a decade, long after Galo learned that hamsters could live up to three years without undue stress (good thing Vinny was a mouse, and mice were hardy). Galo had gotten fairly good at picking the right nickname to get a rise out of Kray. ‘Gov’ was the one that stuck, though.

When did Galo first start calling him ‘gov?’ He used to think it was sad no one ever referred to Kray by little terms of endearment, so he took it upon himself to give him one—because what else was a burning soul for, if not to give off extra warmth for those who needed it? He’d tried a few other nicknames he remembered his mom calling his dad, but Kray had told him they were all entirely inappropriate for a child to call a grown man, so ‘gov’ it was. And Kray had allowed it for god knows how long, considering he’d _hated_ it the entire time.

Galo wished he’d said something sooner, but it probably wouldn’t have made a difference what he picked in the end.

Kray always wore a mask. Galo knew him well enough to notice it _shift_, especially when a grain of irritation got under his skin, and then it would _happen:_ a click of the tongue, a sigh exhaled too forcefully—or more often than not, a weird, prolonged silence where Kray’s eyes went kind of red, and he just _stared_.

That was the most intriguing one, the one Galo felt was the most revealing. Sometimes, Galo wanted to reach out and touch Kray’s face. He wanted to see how far he could pull at the mask, until Kray gave in and let him take it off altogether. And so, ‘gov’ aside, Galo liked to throw out completely inappropriate nicknames when the man was least expecting it. At his naivest, Galo wanted to see Kray at his rawest. He wanted to see Kray’s most genuine form—the man behind the figurehead, the genius, the billionaire, his _hero_.

But calling Kray’s dick “Kray-Z Jr.” right before sex probably took it too far.

“I’m sorry, gov,” Galo said dolefully as Kray tied his wrists to the headboard. “I won’t do it again.”

“Galo, Galo, this isn’t a punishment,” Kray chided as he pulled out lube and a vibrator from the nightstand drawer. “I’m not angry. And I’m always gentle with you, aren’t I?”

_Sometimes_, thought Galo, but he said, “Yeah…”

And without a doubt, his body gave in to Kray because gentle or not, Kray could always get him to open up. He was fucking Galo with two fingers when Galo came with a shiver. God, Kray trained him too well. Galo watched in post-orgasmic resignation as Kray eased the vibrator into him, agonizingly slow, until he was full.

_Almost_. It wasn’t as big as Kray. But it was remote-controlled. Kray gave the dial an experimental twist, and Galo nearly jumped a foot in the air, yelping.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive me for that,” Kray said with a chuckle, turning it down while Galo shook so hard that his knees knocked together.

He looked to Kray and wondered if there was a point in pleading for a lighter sentence. Kray was the kind of man who waited a full minute before even considering mercy, or until Galo stopped begging. At the same time, this meant Kray would pay him _special_ attention tonight, and Galo was a self-professed attention whore, so…

Galo whined at the gentle buzz inside him. It could be a good night or a bad night.

But then, Kray’s phone lit up.

He checked the screen and turned to Galo; cool, detached, and polite: “Oh, dear. I have to make a conference call.” Galo didn’t even get the chance to protest when Kray hushed him, “Tokyo time. Stay quiet for me, Galo.”

He ruffled Galo’s hair and went in the other room before Galo could asked, _“For how long?!”_

Kray didn’t say, so Galo waited.

And he waited for three hours before Kray returned.

He found Galo a desperate mess, panting, his thighs slick with precum, and begging for release. Kray had been fiddling with the remote during his meeting, occasionally bringing Galo to the edge but never over. He’d nearly called for Kray but held back each time, thinking… _thinking_…

Galo didn’t think too hard on why Kray would do this to him. He _couldn’t_. At this point, Galo couldn’t even tell if he was going to shoot or die. He’d been willing to accept whichever came first. And yet, the decision ended up in Kray’s hands after all.

In the dark room, the city lights from outside hit his angles _just_ right as he approached the bed. Galo moaned. Kray was like a marble statue, Classical and beautiful. It was a relief when he removed the vibrator and restraints. When Galo reached out for him with languid arms, Kray held him back by the neck and smiled.

“Missed daddy?” he asked.

Galo’s heart jumped to his throat. He swallowed. His face burned.

Something angry and hurt reared its head—_because that’s the one thing he could NEVER call Kray, because Kray never offered, even though he could have, and now it was too late_—and Galo slapped Kray once before Kray caught his wrist and slammed him down backwards into the mattress. The pillows went flying.

It wasn’t much of a struggle. Kray liked to manhandle Galo, to punish him when he resisted, and Galo liked submitting under the weight of Kray’s body. There was a comfort to their arrangement that worked on most nights. It was mostly working tonight.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Galo whispered, knowing it fell on deaf ears, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his blood as Kray gazed down at him silently with those red eyes. Galo shivered at the friction between them, and he gave in. He leaned into Kray’s touch when Kray slid his thumb down the curves of his chest and abdominals. Kray’s cologne smelled of vanilla and musk, his metal hand cold against Galo’s skin, but he was so hot between Galo’s legs, and he slid in easily.

Not ‘daddy,’ never ‘daddy,’ _but_…

Galo cried himself hoarse, until it was all he could do to cling onto Kray’s broad shoulders, to claw at his crisp, white shirt—to hang on while Kray held him open and fucking rearranged his insides.

But _oh_, it was _good_.

Galo came _so_ hard.

Twice.

And yet, once the passion smoldered, it cooled into something uncomfortable.

And it didn’t sit right with Galo.

Maybe he would have a talk with Kray about, what was it, boundaries? Aina mentioned it the last time they swapped dating woes, and Galo had liked the points she made. Kray was a reasonable man. A bit hard to understand, but Galo thought _maybe_…

Well, maybe he’d just keep his mouth shut _tonight_ because he was tired and sore. It’s not like it was really a big deal, and Galo had long agreed to their unspoken rules. The status quo worked, and he was content to hold on to what physical warmth remained between them as Kray scrolled through stocks on his phone.

“FRANXX just shot through the roof. It seems like you were right after all,” said Kray, setting down his phone at last.

“Me and my dumb luck.” Galo yawned. “Guess you owe me a bike, huh?”

Kray detached his metal arm with a click and tossed it onto the rug. “You’ll have your motorcycle tomorrow.”

“Whoa, _wait_. When I said ‘bike,’ I really meant a literal bicycle,” Galo protested in alarm, “and look, it doesn’t even have to be a good one. I just need a way to commute—”

“You’re getting a motorcycle.” Kray tapped him on the sternum. “You don’t have to keep it.”

But of course, Galo would keep _anything_ Kray gave him. Kray had his flaws, but he showed his affection with gifts. His apologies, too. If Kray felt bad about tonight, and if this was the only way he wanted to make amends, then of _course_, Galo would accept it. And he’d learn how to ride a motorcycle, apparently. That’s pretty cool, right? He snuggled into Kray’s remaining arm and decided it was.

As he drifted off to sleep, Galo might’ve made a stupid joke about getting a good night kiss from daddy, but thinking back, he never got it.

Not even once.

-

[ BUT IN THE PRESENT – _with_ _Lio_ ]

Lio began with a kiss.

He closed the bedroom doors behind them and threw his arms around Galo’s neck, hopping aboard, slim legs in dark leather straddling Galo’s waist. He kissed Galo, and Galo held him against the door. He let Lio take the lead.

Galo didn’t have much practice, not compared to some of the other stuff he’s done, but he picked up most things pretty quick. The trick was to ask questions, no matter how dumb they made you sound, so when they parted for breath, Galo asked, “Is that good? Too much tongue?”

“A little,” Lio panted, adorably cross-eyed as he watched Galo’s lips move, “but it suits you.”

“I’m gonna keep doing it,” Galo threatened cheerfully. As he went in for another round, Lio turned away, looking somewhat conflicted.

“Galo. I feel wrong withholding this, so before we continue,” he said, frowning, his long lashes downcast, “you should know that Aina likes you.”

“Uh, okay, _yeah_. I sure hope so,” Galo chuckled, leaning in for his kiss. “It’d suck if _everyone_ I thought was my friend secretly hated my guts.”

“I can’t begin to unpack that statement,” Lio said blankly, and he caught Galo’s face between his palms. Their noses touched. “What I _mean_ is, before we go any further, you should know that Aina wants to be your girlfriend. Can’t you tell? She always gets flustered whenever you’re too close.”

“Well, that’s just normal,” said Galo, confused as to why they were even discussing his dating options in the middle of a make out session. “I’m smokin’ hot, and she’s got a maiden’s heart.”

“Or, she _likes_ you.”

_“That…_ doesn’t make sense.” Galo frowned. Aina was his closest confidant, and the two of them were probably one of the most tight-knit units in Burning Rescue. He could always count on her to have his back, and he was her #1 speed dial whenever she needed a shoulder to scream into. But the matter of fact was, “She knows I’m gay.”

Lio blinked, and this time, it was his turn to say, “Wait, what?”

“She knows I’m gay?” Galo said, this time a little uncertainly because was he _wrong?_

Aina definitely listened to all his Kray stories with a sympathetic ear, although she did basically end every conversation by telling Galo to dump him—but that didn’t mean she wanted Galo to date _her_ instead, right?

No way, not after she had Galo stalk Remi for a week to get to the bottom of whether or not the four-eyes actually did have a girlfriend (and he did, it was like… an alligator or something freaky like that? Whatever, Galo wasn’t going to judge), and to be real here, Galo kind of had a sneaking suspicion that Aina _maaaay_be had a sister complex (which explained how often she tried and failed to court their own mad scientist Lucia, but too bad for Aina that Lucia preferred the soft whir of her machines to anything else).

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she knows!” Galo said confidently and nuzzled into Lio’s neck. “Congrats, Lio, you got no competition for my firefighter’s heart, so let’s get it _on!”_

Lio shoved Galo away again, regarding him in silent contemplation. Or reconsideration.

“You’re not as dumb as everyone says you are, but you _are_ still pretty dumb,” Lio finally concluded, “and I like that in a man. Take me to bed.”

Galo beamed. He never failed when it counted.

When he set Lio down on the duvet, he paused to admire the shine of Lio’s pale hair fanned out in the moonlight. Lio smirked at that. He rested his ankles on Galo’s shoulders and began undoing the buckles on his thigh. Galo watched, enthralled until he realized he could speed up the process by tackling the belts on Lio’s other leg.

Lio unzipped his jacket. “How do you feel about me topping you?”

Galo thought about it as he dropped Lio’s shoes on the carpet. It’s not like he didn’t have the experience. Plus, he did like when Lio took charge of a situation because Lio always caved into Galo’s requests, no matter how stupid he thought they were. Maybe that carried over to sex, too. “I’m into it.”

“Well, I’m glad we agree, Galo Thymos, because I want _everything_ you have to offer.”

That sent a nice shiver up Galo’s spine and into his heart.

Despite everything sharp and jagged about Lio, Lio was soft and kind.

Galo had no other to really explain sex with him, other than that Lio was _really_ _goddamned_ _kind_. He was bossy and particular about this and that, but he was _always_ studying Galo—attentive to his expressions, his breaths, even down to the way Galo tightened around him when he hit that good spot inside.

“Stop, stop,” Galo whispered on reflex as Lio thrust deeper, and Lio stopped. He stopped each time Galo asked, even if he didn’t understand why.

Lio huffed and blew a blond lock of hair out of his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin that Galo wanted to taste. “Galo, this is the _third_ time. Don’t tell me to start up again if it hurts. I told you I can wait.”

“No, no, it’s good, it’s good.” Galo covered his eyes, embarrassed. “Damn it. Lio, you…”

Lio felt wonderful. It was good when he was gentle, and it was _good_ when he was rough. Everything he did, every sound he made, sent Galo’s heart flittering like a bunch of butterflies. Galo felt like he was fifteen again, looking up at Kray Foresight and wondering what it was about him that made Galo’s heart race. A crush on an impressive man. God, Galo was predictable.

And Lio was perfect. He was being considerate, accommodating, (and let’s be real, Galo’s taken bigger) but old habits were hard to break.

“I’m just… I dunno.” Galo peeked through his fingers, trying to explain it, but he was ultimately distracted how pretty Lio was. “Okay, _look_, you stop when I ask you to, and…” And it bothered Galo that Lio wasn’t demanding anything _more_ from him because if Galo wasn’t being _wrecked_, then he was jumping through hoops to _get wrecked._ Being involved meant he had goals to satisfy—and Galo was a man of action like that. “And I already came, but you haven’t yet, so we gotta fix that.”

“I’m not exactly demanding a one-to-one ratio while I’m _inside_ you,” said Lio, truly exasperated now.

“Huh? Why not?” Galo asked, but judging by Lio’s bewildered stare, he realized that it would have to be a rhetorical question. Galo rubbed his eyes and looked at the ceiling in distress. “So, uh, aren’t you bored? I mean, isn’t there anything you want me to do be doing right now…?”

Lio’s eyes narrowed in that calculating way Galo would never call cute (out loud because it would annoy Lio).

“You’re right, Galo Thymos,” he said at last, his voice as hard as flint. It sent a little thrill into Galo’s gut, but the excitement gave way to confusion when Lio pulled out. And then, he flipped them over, so that Galo was on top, straddling Lio’s hips. “I want you inside me.”

“What?”

Lio stared him directly in the eye, lifting the hem of his fancy silk shirt, revealing everything underneath. “I told you I wanted _everything_, Galo,” he said in his big boss voice, “and right now, _I want you to fuck me.”_

Well, _damn_.

Galo caught himself before he saluted Lio with a “sir, yes sir!”

He scrambled around the bed until he located the chain of condoms they’d left on the covers. He opened a packet. There was something akin to blind panic growing in the back of his head, but when he turned to Lio, Lio was patiently studying his own nails.

“Galo,” he said, “have you done this before?” His shirt had unbuttoned itself while Galo was preoccupied. Lio’s nipples were pink and perky. Galo wanted to taste them, too.

“I’ve had sex before,” said Galo, with what he thought was a clever sidestep as he returned to Lio’s side. He didn’t want Lio to query any deeper, and the easiest way to do that is to put him on the defensive: “The question is, have _you?”_

(Obviously, he had, but—)

“I’ve done pretty much everything with Meis and Gueira,” Lio said nonchalantly and turned it back to Galo with a single question of his own, “So, who did _you_ have sex with?”

“Meis _and_ Gueira, _wow_, you did both at once?” Galo tried really hard to redivert, but Lio wasn’t having it.

“Answer me first, Galo.”

“How come you keep saying my name?”

“Because you like it when I do, _Galo_,” Lio said, beckoning him with a wag of his finger.

“And how the _hell_ do you know so damn _much_ about me—” Galo whined as Lio pulled him down into another kiss. He gave in for a luxurious moment before breaking away. “We only known each other for months.”

“Exactly. We’ve known each other for _months,”_ Lio countered, breathless, both hands on Galo. “And this is something I must know, _so_ _tell me.”_

Galo fumbled with the condom, but his fingers were slippery. “C’mon, please, Lio…”

“It was Kray Foresight, wasn’t it?”

Galo winced.

Lio’s fingers dug deep into Galo’s scalp, and he held him there. “I thought as much.”

Galo’s face was hot, and he felt weirdly ashamed. His shoulders sank. He let Lio pull him down, comforted by the fact that Lio wasn’t kicking him out of his bed in disgust. Lio only sighed, annoyed.

(It was Lio’s ‘Galo, you are so dumb that I don’t know what to do with you’ sigh. Galo kind of liked it.)

“You think I’m an idiot for…” Galo grinned weakly into Lio’s collar, giving in to Lio’s scent. “Well, it’s better than you feeling bad for me. So, don’t feel bad for me, okay?”

“I can’t help it,” Lio’s voice was soft in his ear. “I care about you.”

_Ah_.

Galo closed his eyes and tried really, _really_ hard not to let that destroy him. His voice cracked when he laughed. “It’s not fair. When you say things like that, I’d let you do anything to me.”

“But I want you to have your way with _me_,” said Lio. He pressed into Galo, and Galo’s doubts faded. He was just happy to be here. He was happy Lio wanted him. And Lio made sure he knew it. He guided Galo’s hands down, until Galo was touching him right where he wanted and kissing him the way he liked.

His breathing hitched when Galo fingered him open, but he didn’t let go. He was greedy like that, and Galo loved it as much as he loved the little moans that Lio tried to bite back and couldn’t. Lio’s lips stayed on Galo—on his mouth, his cheeks, his neck and shoulders, like he craved the taste. And Galo wanted to eat Lio up, too.

But the head of Galo’s cock seemed awfully big inside Lio. Lio was hot and tight and already felt amazing. Galo didn’t know if the rest would fit. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Lio, who was sometimes too proud to say anything. Galo thought a moment and pulled the condom off Lio’s erection, appreciating the shiny trail of precum that followed it. He paused to take in the sight, to rub his thumbs against the indents of Lio’s hips. Of course, Lio’s dick was as pretty as the rest of him, and _of course,_ Galo wanted it in his mouth.

One thing at a time, Galo Thymos.

Lio’s cock was slick in Galo’s hand as he pumped him. “Galo—” Lio didn’t get to finish that thought. His ass twitched around Galo, pulling him in. Galo took the invitation and pushed deeper. Lio was going to drive him crazy, and Lio, to his credit, managed to keep his cool, barely whimpering as he gripped the pillow behind his head, watching Galo jerk him off—watching Galo sink into him.

He was blushing so hard.

“Galo,” he breathed, staring at where he and Galo were joined, “how are you this fucking big?”

“Thanks?” said Galo, unsure if that was a compliment or a complaint. Lio was hot, tight, squeezing him so _good_ that Galo’s brain was melting. He stared down to where he was fully sheathed, to Lio’s dripping cock, until he couldn’t _not_ want a taste of Lio. He mouthed along Lio’s flushed chest, tonguing his nipples as Lio clutched at his hair, sending tingles down Galo’s back. It was taking all of his concentration not to go wild, but he just _had_ to move.

Galo fucked Lio hard, until Lio’s eyes were lidded and glazed and he was gasping keening little sounds that Galo liked a _lot_. Galo brushed Lio’s bangs out of his eyes. He reached over to touch Lio’s lips, his cheeks, the little black triangle on his ear. He couldn’t keep his hands off Lio.

_Lio, Lio, Lio._

Warm. Vibrant. Perfect, oh, _Lio_.

“Galo,” Lio groaned, raising his chin to kiss the inside of Galo’s wrist. The idea that Lio would simply bare his neck for Galo was thrilling, so Galo leaned down and bit into it. Gently, though. Not enough to hurt, much less leave a mark. Just enough to taste the salt on Lio’s throat. He wanted to feel Lio’s pulse quicken beneath him, to feel Lio tighten around him—to hear Lio try and stifle a moan behind his hand.

If the Promare had still been around, Galo knew he’d have burst into flames right then and there.

“Lio,” Galo panted, “Lio, your _face_—I wanna see you come.”

Lio gasped when Galo hit his good spot. His back arched, and slowly, very slowly, he moved his arms away from his face. Galo swallowed, salivating at the sight of Lio unraveling before his very eyes: his face and chest flushed, his lips pink from being kissed apart, and his eyes a dark, lusty shade of violet.

Lio huffed a laugh and dodged Galo’s gaze. “S-sure. I’m told it’s very… pretty.”

What the hell, _now_ he was being shy? God, he really knew how to rile up Galo’s burning spirit, and Galo had him all to himself tonight. He felt like the luckiest bastard on earth. Hell, maybe he’d be extra selfish: “Kiss me again, Lio.”

He didn’t even have to ask twice.

Lio pulled him down eagerly, and Galo kissed him through his orgasm, swallowing his moans, and he kept kissing him—until one round merged into the next and Lio was whispering, _“Yes, good, Galo, more.” _

Galo managed to see him come the second time, and Lio was as gorgeous as advertised.

And when he demanded, “Again,” Galo had to wonder where his stamina came from, if not from the Promare.

But he was in no place to refuse Lio.

-

Later that night, they opened the door to find a six-pack of soda and a box of cold pizza on the floor. Lio blushed and looked around suspiciously, as if expecting Amalio to pop out with a ‘Congratulations on the sex!” cake for dessert. Galo’s stomach growled.

“Still good,” he declared between bites of the margherita.

They took the pizza and soda back into the room and had some more sex.

-

[ TRAILS OF FIRE – _you always knew_ ]

They rode their bikes back home—but not before stopping at a little mom-n-pop diner off I-80. It had a four-star rating from over six hundred satisfied patrons.

More importantly, their website boasted a stack of flapjacks that Galo had been eyeing since their journey _to_ Fotia House.

“A little pricey, but I’m gonna do it!” Galo declared, slapping his laminated menu on the table. “Can’t go wrong with a name like Supreme Mega Flapjack Heaven!”

“I’ll have coffee,” Lio added, and the waitress left with their orders.

“Just coffee?” asked Galo, concerned. Lio was already tiny, and his hyper fast metabolism was another side effect from his Burnish days. He needed to eat, especially after last night.

“I saw what you ordered on the menu,” said Lio, unwrapping his silverware. “You’re going to need someone to help you finish it, and I like pancakes.”

But what arrived as about a third of what Galo had expected.

“Ohhh,” he said, checking the menu again, deflated. “I got it wrong. This one just had the cooler name. What I wanted was Pancake Hell.”

“I see,” Lio said, waving down the waitress. “Excuse me, we’ll have the Pancake Hell, too.”

Galo blinked. “You sure? It’s gonna be a lot of food.”

“If we’re ordering based on names, I think Pancake Hell is better,” Lio replied. “Besides, there’s nothing we can’t do with teamwork.”

Galo beamed. “Teamwork!”

But what arrived was about _four times_ what Galo expected.

It took up half the table. The layers of pancakes, whipped cream, and berries completely obscured Galo’s view of Lio, and he was beginning to get nervous until Lio’s gloved hand reappeared from the side, a fork gleaming in its grip. Lio’s face appeared shortly after, with a little gremlin smile that set Galo’s heart on fire.

“We’ll just have to eat it all, Galo de Lion style.”

So, they did.

And when Galo was too slow to grab the check, Lio paid their bill and left a hundred-dollar tip.

-

They rode their bikes about six miles down the road before pulling over to throw up.

Pancake Hell, indeed.

When Galo was done, he found Lio sitting in a daze next to Detroit 1.0, so he took a seat next to him. The sun was very hot, and they were very dehydrated.

“Galo. Do you think that was worth getting our picture taken and stapled to the Wall of Fame back there?” Lio asked, passing Galo half a bottle of water.

Galo took a swig and swished it around his mouth before swallowing. “Yeah.”

“Do you think they’d keep it up,” Lio said quietly, “if they knew who I was?”

“Ahh.” Galo sighed when he understood. He threw Lio a lopsided smile that he hoped was reassuring. “Who cares? When was the last time you and me, we ate so much? Even if they throw our picture away, memories last.” He thumped a palm against his chest for emphasis.

Lio glanced at him and then smiled cryptically. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a polaroid photo of him and Galo posing queasily over two empty plates of pancake crumbs. “It was a good picture, though.”

“You pinched it!” Galo shouted with a laugh. “Here, lemme see it!”

Lio leapt out of his reach, put the photo back in his pocket, and hopped onto his motorcycle. Galo rode after him, and they raced each other down the empty highway for what must have been too many miles because they ran out of gas and had to hitchhike.

Seven people drove past Galo and his array of cool poses before Lio removed his biker jacket and dug out a pair of leather short shorts from his travel bag. He was re-buckling the last belt on his thigh when a trucker pulled over.

“You two need a ride?”

With Galo’s bike and Detroit 1.0 safely stashed in the back, Galo got into the passenger seat and Lio climbed into his lap, a leggy mess. Galo rearranged him into a more conventional (and less titillating) position and clicked the seatbelt over them. “Safety first!”

“Hmph.” Lio folded his arms across his chest and bumped his head back into Galo’s chest for some reason. Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable.

The three of them continued down the road in silence with the radio on, until Galo recognized the melody of the latest pop hit from a far east island, “Hey, it’s that one song I like!” Galo dialed up the volume and joined the solo, _“All my life / been searching for / the place I lost / it’s what I adore!”_

Lio took the next verse, _“And all my life / been hoping for / a happy life for me!”_

They grinned and belted out the chorus in unison.

If the driver regretted taking them aboard, he didn’t show it because he joined in on the refrain.

-

When the trucker dropped them off at the next gas station, he told Galo to take care of himself and his tiny girlfriend with the deep voice. Galo was about to correct him when Lio pinched his butt and shook his head.

“It’s nice not being recognized as former terrorist leader Lio Fotia, sometimes,” he explained, leaning into Galo’s side.

Galo smiled and nodded. They both pumped their fists in the air, and the truck honked back from the road.

As they parked their bikes, Lio said, “After everything we’ve been though, including me watching you throw up eight pounds of half-digested pancakes—”

“And saving the world,” Galo interjected, shocked that Lio didn’t lead with that.

“And saving the world,” Lio acknowledged, “Galo Thymos, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I love you.”

[ I LOVE YOU – _I love you_ ]

Galo stopped in his tracks and said, “Wait, _what?”_

Lio looked back at him from the shop door, beautiful and perfect in his white silk blouse, tiny shorts, and buckles all over his legs. “I love you, Galo,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can close your mouth now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are deeply appreciated! You can follow me on twitter [**@goodnightwrite.**](https://twitter.com/goodnightwrite)


End file.
